Finding the truth about Junior
by tree979
Summary: VERSION 2.0   Hurt/Comfort slash fic about Junior and Guerrero set at least ten years before the events of season one. Quite dark. Reference to abuse. A much softer less smutty version of the original draft posted but still 'M' rated for steamy moments.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and I don't make a single penny from writing this.**

**Author's note: Okay, I'm the first person to complain when I think a fic is taking a character somewhere I feel is OOC but as this is a slash fic I've pretty much taken Guerrero and Junior as far into the realms of OOC as it's possible to go. If you can't beat'em join'em, right? Oooh, there are some double and triple entendres in that comment! **

**WARNING: This fic is slash and carries an 'M' rating for very good reasons. If the idea of a M/M couple offends you, turn back now. If you do read it, please bare in mind that this is my first slash fic and I'm well aware that it is less than perfect!**

ADDITIONAL NOTE: This is about version 3 or 4 of this fic I've posted in the last 24 hours and that's largely because the earlier versions were a bit, well... full on shall we say! I definitely needed to take my own advice over the 'less is more' advice that I've given plenty of other writers! So I've edited this fic from a VERY smutty slash piece to something more in the way of an angsty romance one, which really does seem to make a lot more sense. A big thank you to cedricsowner for showing me the error of my smutty ways with this one!

* * *

"Quit being such a baby and let me look at it!" Guerrero said impatiently.

Junior shook his head and pressed his hand to the bullet wound on the top of his right leg. He knew it was only a graze, despite the dark blood stain that was seeping through the fabric of his jeans a couple of inches bellow his hip.

"It's fine. It's a scratch," Junior insisted. "It didn't even really hit me."

"Well, you're bleeding and that means I have to take a look."

Junior shook his head again and gave him the look that Guerrero thought of as his you-stole-my-Tonka-truck look. The expression made Junior look much younger and more vulnerable than his twenty-five years and it made Guerrero feel ancient, despite the fact that the age difference between them wasn't that great. That look annoyed Guerrero. In the eight years since joining the Old Man's crew, Junior had proven himself every bit a ruthless and efficient killer, performing tasks that would have turned the stomachs of older, more experienced men. He had become quite the artist in inflicting pain and misery, and clients sometimes asked for him specifically, due to his reputation for brutality. Junior had no right to give anyone that wide-eyed boyish look of vulnerable panic. He certainly had no right to use that look on Guerrero, whose guts always seemed to knot painfully when he saw his friend in distress.

"For fuck's sake Junior, let me see the damn wound!"

As Guerrero's tone became more aggressive, the Tonka-truck look vanished from Junior's face to be replaced with a harder, determined look that told him that the younger man was willing to fight tooth and nail to prevent him getting a look at the injury.

"Just leave it Guerrero. I'm not going to bleed to death between now and the morning. I'll get it checked out when we get back to the mainland."

"Not good enough dude," Guerrero said shaking his head. "The wound needs to be cleaned up to prevent infection. In case you hadn't noticed, we're not exactly in a sterile environment here."

Junior knew he was right. Despite the fire they'd built to ward off the autumnal chill, the cabin where they were hiding out until sunrise was damp and dirty and the air tasted of mouldering decay. It wasn't exactly the idea environment for someone with an open wound, however superficial.

Guerrero had tended to similar wounds on Junior's body plenty of times before and although he was always reluctant to accept his help, he usually relented after the initial protest. Junior was being exceptionally stubborn tonight and it dawned on Guerrero that perhaps it had to do with the location of the wound. For Guerrero to get a good look at it Junior would have to drop his pants. Junior wasn't exactly shy about his body, but he definitely objected to people touching him unless absolutely necessary and he avoided situations where people would see him any less than fully dressed. Sure, he'd go shirtless if he had to but he'd rather go months without bathing than use a communal shower room.

"Just give me the stuff and I'll clean it myself," Junior said, glaring at him.

"I've got my orders, Junior," he said.

The Old Man had, as usual, been very specific. If Junior got so much as a paper cut, it was Guerrero's job to inspect and treat the wound. It wasn't the sole reason for Guerrero to accompany him on this mission, but it did fall under the category of keeping an eye on Junior, something the Old man always took care to stress the importance of when the two men worked together, which was usually more often than not. A few months ago Junior nearly lost a couple of toes to gangrene and ever since then Guerrero had been held responsible for tending to any injury he sustained in the field, however minor.

Even without the boss' explicit instructions, Guerrero wasn't ever going to let Junior neglect himself like that again. To say he'd grown protective of the younger man was an understatement. Guerrero had worked on and off for Joubert for a couple of years before Junior arrived. The Old Man kept his men on a very short leash and Guerrero didn't take kindly to anyone trying to take that kind of control over his life and he made that painfully clear. The Old Man still had need of his particular expertise, so they entered in to a mutual agreement whereby Guerrero would work the occasional job for him for am agreed fee and Joubert would respect Guerrero's right to do whatever the fuck he wanted to when he was on his own time.

Things slowly began to change when Joubert took Junior in. Guerrero took to the kid straight away, he was amused for his unerring ability to get in to trouble and fight his way back out. Joubert began sending Junior to shadow him on assignments and it soon became apparent that the two worked well together. The kid was a fast learner and had no trouble thinking on his feet, and so Guerrero became his mentor and he let his free-lance work slide in favour of working with Junior. He still felt protective of the kid, despite the fact that over the years they'd worked together he proven time and again that he was more than a match for anything the job threw at him. But working for Joubert meant Junior had long since lost that rebellious spark that Guerrero had first admired and that troubled him.

"I don't care about the Old Man's fucking orders, Guerrero. You're not touching it and that's final."

At that point Guerrero snapped.

"Quit whinging and drop your fucking pants. I'm not going to jump you! I'm not …."

Guerrero clamped him mouth shut, refusing to finish the sentence but it was too late. They both knew what her was going to say, I'm not the Old Man.

"What did you say?" Junior asked in a painfully soft tone. The colour drained from his face giving him a ghost like appearance in the flickering firelight.

"Forget it. You want your leg to rot? Well fine. Let it rot." He'd always had his suspicions about how Joubert had kept the defiant teenager in line when he first took him in but the look on Junior's face confirmed it.

"No, I want to know what the hell you meant by that!" Junior hissed, as if trying to keep his voice down although there wasn't another soul for miles.

"I said forget it, Junior."

"I don't know what you think you know but I…" Junior couldn't seem to finish the sentence and he flushed a deep red as he struggled to find the words. "It's none of your fucking business."

"No, it's not. Forget I said anything."

They sat in excruciating silence for a while, staring in to the fire to avoid the awkwardness of making eye contact. Guerrero was kicking himself for what he'd almost said, but the damage was done. As close as he and Junior were, the younger man's complicated relationship with their boss had always been strictly off limits. He'd always known Junior was hurting, but he was powerless to do anything about it. He couldn't believe he'd been stupid enough to throw that in Junior's face like that.

"How did you know?" Junior asked the question so quietly that Guerrero could hardly make out the words.

"I didn't, not for sure. Not until just now."

"I don't want to talk about this." Junior said quietly. "It's over now anyway. I just want to forget it."

"So it's not still… ?"

"No." Junior said. "Not for years now."

Guerrero felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest when he heard those words, a weight that he hadn't even known he'd been carrying until it was gone.

"I'm sorry dude," Guerrero said.

"What for?"

"Not doing something about it."

Junior shrugged.

There wasn't much he could have done and they both knew it.

They sat watching the fire in uncomfortable silence until Junior tried to shift the position of his injured leg and let out an involuntary grunt as the movement reopened the wound and sent a fresh jolt of pain through the injured limb.

"Let me look at that Junior," Guerrero said. "It's not a big deal, I just need to clean it up."

Junior's shoulders seemed to sag in defeat for a moment before he hauled himself to his feet. His movements were stiff and awkward, and although the pain in his leg was aggravated by his every move, he didn't make a sound. Guerrero could see that he was a little unsteady on his feet, so he gestured for Junior to lean against the wall of the cabin while he unpacked the basic medical supply kit from his holdall. He noticed that Junior was limping a lot more than when they first took cover in the cabin. The adrenalin was obviously wearing off, allowing the pain to really kick in. Although Junior was trying to hide it, Guerrero could see it in the younger man's determined expression.

Guerrero carefully dragged the crate on which he'd been sitting over to where Junior was leaning with his back to the wall and sat back down so the wound was more or less eye level. He looked up at Junior, who blushed and reluctantly unbuckled his belt and began undoing his flies. He flinched when Guerrero gently began easing the fabric of his jeans over his hips, pulling his jeans down to his knees to expose the gunshot wound. Beneath the jeans, Junior was wearing black jersey boxers that had been shredded by the path of the bullet. Guerrero hesitated for a second, torn between wanting to let Junior hang on to whatever little dignity had left and doing the sensible thing and removing the boxers so he could clean the wound properly. After a couple of seconds, Junior grit his teeth and made the decision himself and pulled the boxers down to his knees, leaving the wound, and himself, totally exposed.

Guerrero glanced up at Junior, but the younger man refused to meet his eyes. He set about examining the wound on Junior's leg, trying to ignore the fact that his face was only inches away from his exposed genitals. The injury was not a serious one and really only required cleaning and covering up to protect it from their current unsanitary environment. Junior had been lucky in that the bullet had only gauged a groove in the surface of his leg and failed to do any serious damage. It was painful and it would leave a scar, but as long as it was kept clean and dry, it should heal quickly.

Junior had closed his eyes and was trying to focus on anything but Guerrero. In the chill damp of the cabin he could feel heat radiating from his friend's body. As he leaned closer to examine the wound, Guerrero's warm breath hit his bare skin, seeming to scorch him inside and out. His close proximity was making Junior's body stir in a way that Junior found hard to ignore. He tried to focus on the fact that although his body seemed determined to make the most of the attention it was receiving, his mind had to remember that now wasn't the time to crave the touch of another person's hands. Especially when that person was a man. Especially when that man was Guerrero.

Guerrero was trying to ignore the catch in Junior's breath every time he touched him and the corresponding twitch deep in his own abdomen. He carefully irrigated the wound and found he was both relieved and disappointed when the smell of antiseptic overpowered Junior's own musky scent. He'd come to terms with his physical attraction to his young friend a long time ago, as well as the fact that he could never act on it. It wasn't a question of sexual orientation to Guerrero, one warm body was much the same as another when the need for sexual release asserted itself, but rather one of trust. He knew Junior had been hurt and he needed Guerrero as a protector and mentor, maybe even as a friend. He really didn't need for Guerrero to complicate things. Junior needed him and that was enough, it had to be. This knowledge did nothing to prevent Guerrero from being aroused, and he was grateful that, as uncomfortable as it was, his position sitting on the crate hid his hard on from Junior.

Junior bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and tried to drag his focus to that instead of his friend's hands but however hard he tried he could do nothing to prevent the rush of blood to his groin that Guerrero was bound to notice. He kept his eyes screwed shut as Guerrero gently applied an adhesive dressing to the wound and waited for the inevitable scorn and disgust when he noticed Junior's erection. But it never seemed to happen and Junior was shocked to find his friend gently pulling up his boxers without a word. He forced himself to open his eyes, certain that he would see the disgust written on Guerrero's face but again, it just wasn't there. For a moment he saw sadness in Guerrero's expression, but the second he realised Junior had opened his eyes the look was gone.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why…" Junior mumbled.

"Don't sweat it dude," Guerrero replied, pulling up Junior's jeans so he wouldn't have to reach down and aggravate his injury further. "It's just a reflex thing. The human body can throw out some weird responses to pain sometimes."

Junior nodded, although he knew that his erection had everything to do with Guerrero and nothing to do with the gunshot wound. Guerrero began to button Junior's jeans and in doing so his fingers brushed against the bulge in his boxer shorts which made Junior gasp. Guerrero realised that his friend was more than capable of doing up his own jeans and his attempt to help was likely causing him more embarrassment, so he stopped fumbling with the button and was moving his hands away when Junior placed his hand on top of his, holding them in place.

Suddenly it seemed as though all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and Guerrero couldn't seem to catch his breath. He didn't dare move and Junior seemed to feel the same as the moment stretched on for what felt like forever. Eventually he could stand it no longer and broke the spell by looking up at Junior's face and as soon as he did so, his hands were released and Junior started trying to blurt out an apology.

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't… I don't know why I did that…Please don't hate me…"

The look on the younger man's face was heartbreaking and Guerrero felt responsible for putting it there. He should have let Junior tend the wound himself. What the fuck was he thinking? How could he throw his suspicions about the Old Man's abuse in his face like that then strip the poor kid half-naked? He couldn't have fucked the situation up more if he tried and the fact that he was still sitting in front of Junior with a raging hard on while Junior was asking for his forgiveness just made it worse.

"Junior, stop. It's okay," Guerrero realised with a start that his fingers were still in the waistband of Junior's jeans and he gently eased them away. "I don't hate you. Nothing you could do would make me hate you. I shouldn't have put you in this situation. I'm sorry."

Junior closed his eyes and took a deep breath before he spoke,

"You must think I'm sick."

"No, I really don't," Guerrero replied gently. It was difficult for him to think clearly sitting on the crate in front of Junior who was still very clearly aroused, but standing up would only reveal his own predicament and he didn't want to make matters worse.

"What Joubert did to me…" Junior's voice faltered. "I don't know… maybe he twisted me into something else…"

"What he did to you Junior wasn't about sex, it was about control. He hurt you… it doesn't have to be that way, even between two guys."

Guerrero held his breath, hoping Junior would understand, but the younger man's face showed nothing but shame and humiliation.

"Junior?"

"It wasn't the pain," he said quietly, "it was you, being near you."

Guerrero's thoughts faltered for a moment as he struggled to make sense of what he was hearing, then it all fell into place as he remembered what he'd said about weird responses to pain. Junior was attracted to him too…

"Junior, look at me," he pleaded, the urgency in his voice making him sound almost angry, but his friend refused to open his eyes and turned his head away. "For fucks sake Junior, look at me!" Junior remained silent, frozen against the wall.

Guerrero realised that the only thing he could do at this point was to be honest, he owed him that much.

"Junior…" he spoke softly this time as he stood up, but still Junior remained immobile.

Guerrero carefully put his hands on either side of Junior's face and turned his head to face him. Junior's eyes remained closed, but when he put up no resistance, Guerrero pulled his head forward until their foreheads touched. Guerrero's hands were cradling his face and Junior let out a shuddering breath as his thumbs began slowly caressing his cheeks.

"Junior, there is nothing wrong with you," Guerrero murmured in a soothing voice, "at least there's nothing wrong with you that isn't wrong with me too…"

Junior finally opened his eyes and saw the understanding in his friends eyes. He hesitantly raised his hands to where Guerrero was still cupping his face and covered his hands with his own. Their lips were only an inch or two apart and, after only a moment or two's hesitation, the gap was closed as they shared a tentative kiss. It was impossible to tell who had initiated it but there was no doubt in either of their minds that they both wanted it.

Guerrero couldn't help but wonder at the difference between the cool headed killer he'd seen take down six heavily armed men only a few hours earlier and the terrified young man he had just shared a kiss with. He would have to be careful. He'd had a long time to make the mental adjustment to having such strong feelings for his friend, but this was all painfully new for Junior.

He ran his hands down Guerrero's forearms and for a second Guerrero worried that he was going to push him away, that he'd pushed him too far too fast, but then he realised Junior was reaching for him, his fingers lacing together behind his neck to pull him closer for another kiss. This time there was nothing tentative about it, and as Junior's tongue parted his lips Guerrero moaned and pressed his body against the younger man and revealed just how much he wanted him. All thoughts of taking things slowly were pushed aside as Junior ground himself against Guerrero and soon they were tugging at each other's clothes, desperate to expose more flesh. Jackets and shirts were dropped to the floor as the need to feel skin against skin overpowered them both. Guerrero hands wandered across Junior's bare chest, pausing to pinch at his nipples which made the younger man groan and throw his head back. Guerrero crushed his body to Junior's again, harder this time, and momentarily distracted by the noises Junior was making, he forgot about the wound on his leg until Junior cried out in pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Junior," he blurted out, pulling away, but for the first time since they set foot in the cabin, he saw Junior was actually smiling.

"It's okay. This is totally worth it," he said, pulling him close and gently biting at Guerrero's neck.

"You should be resting, you're injured..." he murmured as he rested his forehead against Junior's shoulder, enjoying the sensation of the younger man's mouth on his neck. He ran his hands down Junior's back and under his jeans until he was cupping his ass. Junior flinched and Guerrero immediately withdrew his hands.

"No, don't," Junior said, "It's okay, I want you to. Just… bad memories for a second there."

"I'm not going to rush this, Junior. I've waited this long, I can wait a bit longer." Guerrero wasn't even sure if this was true. He was trying to exert all the self-control he could, but the smell of Junior's skin was making it hard to think, not to mention the taste of that kiss. Now he'd started touching him, he wasn't sure that he'd be able to stop.

"Maybe we should lie down…?" Junior suggested.

Guerrero soon had their discarded clothes and an army surplus blanket from his pack, laid out close to the fire and Junior lay down. He looked up at Guerrero but his friend seemed reluctant to join him.

"Guerrero, for fucks sake come here and lie down. You'll freeze to death!"

Guerrero seemed to notice for the first time that he was shivering in the chill of the October night.

"I'm not sure I don't deserve to. I can't let myself take advantage of you like this, Junior."

"You're not!" he insisted, "and you certainly can't from all the way over there."

Guerrero smiled and gave in to Junior's lop-sided million watt grin. He laid down next to Junior and soon found himself lost in a hungry, breathless kiss as Junior tugged at his jeans and his own hands were pulling at Junior's. Mindful of the wound on Juniors leg, he carefully peeled his clothes away and kicked off the rest of his own clothes.

Junior lay on his left, uninjured side and Guerrero was careful as they pressed against each other not to hurt him again, although Junior himself showed no such concern for his injury as he rolled his hips against him, desperate for more friction against his aching arousal. Guerrero placed a restraining hand on Junior's hip in an attempt to immobilise his injured friend.

"Easy dude," he murmured in his ear, "You'll hurt yourself."

"Really don't care," Junior replied, pushing his hand away and pressing his body against Guerrero once again. "Feels too good to stop. Please Guerrero, I need this. Show me how good it can be…"

"Are you sure?" Guerrero asked, forcing himself to give Junior one last chance to change his mind, "we don't have a condom…"

"I just had my physical. I'm clean."

"Me too but that's not the point…"

"No… point is I want this … not taking no… for an answer." Junior moaned as the movement of Guerrero's body against his literally took his breath away.

* * *

For a minute or two neither of them could move or speak as they fought to catch their breath. Guerrero checked the dressing on Junior's wounded leg and was relieved to discover that it had held up surprisingly well and although a little more blood had seeped through, it didn't need replacing. Guerrero lay down on his side facing Junior trailed his fingers up and down the younger man's back.

"Mmmmm," Junior was almost purring and the contented little noise made Guerrero smile.

"How does it feel?" he asked gently.

"Fucking incredible," Junior smiled.

Guerrero chuckled, "I meant your leg, you idiot!"

"I have no idea," Junior replied, "I'm not sure I can even feel my legs at the moment."

"That won't last forever," Guerrero said, still tracing patterns with his trailing fingers on Junior's back.

"Then we may have to do that again," Junior said. "Purely for medicinal reasons of course."

Guerrero frowned for a moment.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Junior? I'm cool with it but I've wanted this for the longest time. I need to know you're not gonna freak out on me, dude..."

"Do I look like I'm freaking out?" Junior asked with a smile. "Yeah this was... unexpected but I know this is what I want. I know I want you."

"Good, 'cause I don't think I could go back to the way things were."

Junior smiled and rolled on to his uninjured side and threw his arm around Guerrero, pulling him close. They shared a deep lingering kiss as they lay on the floor of the cabin in a tangle of limbs making the most of the heat from the dying embers in the fireplace before the cold would force them to redress and rebuild the fire.


End file.
